


In the Closet

by redscudery



Series: Around the House [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First Kiss, For Science John, John is a Saint, John's Jumpers, M/M, Sherlock Holmes and Experiments, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redscudery/pseuds/redscudery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I got a personalized prompt from kriskenshin: the extreme mess, not ok</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Closet

It’s Saturday afternoon, and the flat is quiet, mostly because a fresh brain has lured Sherlock to the morgue. John has cleaned the flat (well, done the dishes, hoovered, and swiped disinfectant over the kitchen and bathroom - no need for excess) and now he settles into his chair, happy to have some time to himself.  
Once he’s made himself tea, updated his blog, and read the paper, though, he starts to feel nervous. Sherlock’s been away for several hours now, and, despite the inconveniences of having a giant smartarse tornado as a flatmate, John misses him.

How’s the brain? he texts.

Not as fresh as it could have been SH

Ah. Coming home for tea?

No. Busy. SH

Too bad. There’s a decaying pigeon in the fridge I thought you might like.

Very funny, John. SH

Monkey brains? I hear they’re very flavourful.

Leave the monkey brains alone. I need them. SH

You’re not serious.

Never more so. SH

Are you telling me there are monkey brains in our fridge?

No. SH

Sherlock, where are the monkey brains?

In my room. SH

Unrefrigerated? Unrefrigerated monkey brains? In your room? SHERLOCK!

There’s no answer. John gets up and approaches Sherlock’s room. He hasn’t been inside since Sherlock was drugged, and he just isn’t sure what he’ll find. At first sight, it’s reassuring. The room is fairly neat apart from the unmade bed, but that’s fine.  
No monkey brains in sight, though. That is worrisome. John reaches for the closet door.

The handle’s stuck a bit, but when he does finally get the door open, he wishes it had stayed stuck. The jar of monkey brains is on the top shelf, he can handle that, but it’s the duck hanging from the coathook and the unidentifiable splodge on the floor that gets him.

Sherlock, I cannot believe what you have in the closet.

It’s for science, John. I’m testing for extreme conditions. SH

It is so far beyond science it’s not funny, and the only thing extreme about this experiment is the mess. That is NOT OKAY, Sherlock. 

So fussy. I’ll get rid of them in 36 hours. SH

I’m getting rid of them now. 

If you do, your jumpers go too. Talk about an extreme mess. SH

My jumpers are not biohazards. NOT OKAY, Sherlock

No, but they’re a crime. SH

On my way. Do not touch monkey brains. Or duck. SH

OR FOX CARCASE SH

Fox carcase? John heads towards the kitchen for a very large bag and some rubber gloves. Sherlock is going to pay for this. 

Half an hour later, John has the duck and the fox carcase safely bagged and is working on the mysterious grunge on the floor. He has left the monkey brains as a sop to Sherlock’s scientific inquiry, but as he scrubs he gets angrier and angrier, and he’s just about to bin the brains as well when Sherlock comes in.

“What the bloody hell, John? I told you to leave those things!”

“I’ve left you the monkey brains, and that’s more than you deserve! There were maggots in that closet, Sherlock!”

“Maggots are clean, John. They are cleaning up the skeleton! Which is the point!”

“This is not a laboratory! This is a flat! Where I live too! You can’t do this, Sherlock!”

“I can! You would never had known if I hadn’t told you!”

“Bollocks! Ten days ago I asked you what that horrible smell was and you told me that there were some dead squirrels in Mrs. Hudson’s bins.”

“Well, there were!”

“Yes, but that wasn’t the whole truth, was it?”

“I knew something like this would happen!”

“With good reason! Because I’m not completely mad!”

“That’s it. The jumpers go, and we’ll start with that utterly hideous one you’re wearing!”

“I am not taking my jumper off for you to toss.”

“Then I’ll take it off you!”

“You can try.” John considers taking off his horrifying rubber gloves, then decides against it. Sherlock can take his chances. 

Sherlock steps forward, crowding John in the corner by the window. John waits for him to make a move.

“Last chance, John.” Sherlock’s voice is low and gravelly and it hits John in the pit of his stomach. Surely, John thinks, there's a better balance between a stultifying normal life and this wild experience? He loves the danger, can even deal, sometimes, with the science, but isn't it the ultimate madness to be attracted to this man?

"This is my sweater, Sherlock." John pretends a bravado he doesn't feel. Sherlock is extremely close now, and John is losing his focus; Sherlock’s breath is warm against his face and neck, and he smells like cinnamon gum and expensive cologne. John relaxes his defensive posture in spite of himself; Sherlock’s lips are even more beautiful close up than he thought they would be, and…

Sherlock kisses him. 

“Oh!” John’s noise of surprise seems to egg him on, and he presses his advantage, grabbing the hem of John’s jumper and pulling. John brings his arms closer to his body, but he doesn’t break the kiss. Trying to beat Sherlock at his own game, he opens his lips just a bit and lets his tongue wander along Sherlock’s bottom lip. He’s wanted to do this so many times, but it just hasn’t seemed…thinkable…until now. 

Sherlock is responding, but he hasn’t given up on the jumper. His hands are working it steadily up John’s torso, and he’s deepening the kiss, too, nipping John’s lip and pushing his mouth wider. John can’t help himself; he stumbles back against the wall and lets Sherlock melt into him; the kiss is soft and wet, their bodies are pressed together tightly and they’ve both forgotten the sweater. 

For now.


End file.
